just to be clear I didn't mean to anger anyone, I mentioned and brought up registering a handgun as a distinction against simply owning a gun. i'm a Brit, and lived in major world cities such as NYC, London, Paris most of my life NEVER having seen a gun - nor wanted to. Now I am based out of Houston, TX - and there are guns everywhere.
but what I really want to say is registering my drone is fine, my car, my gun, my hedge-cutters if they want! ha weed-wacker or even my garden hose.
but now - i find out as a commercial photographer - not only do i have to register my drone, i have to apply for an FAA exemption, the 333 thing. and i get it, i do - it's serious - it's about safety - not taking some kids head off in a crowd - so i'm doing it - it's how i make my living.
ps. i'm an enthusiast of everything geeky, based in amazing engineering, video games and flying my SOLO! so pls excuse my mentioning guns it was merely an example of what i'm willing to register in order to have fun!
Absolutely no anger here, at least on my part.
Folks like me, though - and my guess is a whole bunch of others here - are getting just a tad weary of defending ourselves against charges that we are reckless or just plain evil for "clinging" to our guns.
I fully understand that, to a Brit, the whole gun/2nd Amendment issue may seem a bit trivial in this day and age. After all, why wouldn't it be?
We have vast supermarkets, Wal-Marts, (Best Buys!), and innumerable other outlets to satisfy our every need and whim. Yep, a whim like buying a Solo. Why would we need to take it upon ourselves to provide
anything to keep our way of life intact? Even protection is supposedly provided.
However, for folks who were hunting for and skinning/dressing game to at least assist in feeding their family (and often their neighbors) by the age of ten, it's not that simple. In backwoods KY a long time ago there was not a
single grocery store within forty miles of our coal mining town.
Of course you could always run to the nearest filling station (that's what we called them) for a snack, but the only things you were likely to find were beef jerky, Beemans gum, and dill pickles from an oak barrel.
Nope, we lived without assistance.
Without assistance.
Now, we find ourselves having to defend the very skills and tools that ensured we could be here in the first place.
If people think about it, the phrase "my cold, dead hands" may acquire an entirely new meaning.
Yesterday I was flying my Solo at a nearby park as I do many Fridays. A woman of some moderate acquaintance was walking her beagle nearby, accompanied by her 9 year old son. This particular woman knew my family history and, no doubt, had shared her valuable insights re the social value of my parentage with the entire family.
Therefore, as I brought my drone in for a battery swap, I heard her son say behind me:
"Mommy! It's coming down! Boy it looks
mean!"
"Is it going to
shoot at us?"
Sigh.
